


A Better Look

by jadencross



Category: Animaniacs
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Oneshot, not really angst but also not really fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:55:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28322712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadencross/pseuds/jadencross
Summary: A strange toon has appeared, gifting Plotz glasses that allow him to see other people's true selves! Wonder what he'll do with them?
Relationships: Thaddeus Plotz & Yakko Warner & Wakko Warner & Dot Warner
Comments: 16
Kudos: 163





	A Better Look

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas! 
> 
> I came up with this idea yesterday and I had some time between cooking for Christmas so I wrote this really fast while the pie crust was cooling! Obviously, this isn't betaed, and I haven't even edited it beyond spell-check. Maybe I'll edit it later, but I wouldn't hold your breath lol.
> 
> Enjoy!

Plotz didn’t flinch when the door slammed shut behind yet another horrible director with yet another horrible movie who he’d just had to fire. He was angry enough as it was.

See, originally, Plotz wasn’t going to fire the man, just replace him, but a screaming match had broken out so Plotz had bitten the bullet. He had enough headaches in his life he didn’t need more.

He paced his office, trying to calm down to be the reasonable chairman he always was, when a soft knock came on his door.

“What!” he yelled, more viciously than he intended. 

The door cracked open a bit, and the head of his secretary peaked in. “You have a toon here waiting to see you. He says he made an appointment.”

Plotz glanced at his calendar. He didn’t have any more in-person appointments today, but the fact that a toon had asked instead of just jumping into the room made him more willing to hear them out. He shivered, thinking about the Warners and their often frightening entrances. Even Bugs Bunny wasn’t above barging in when he really wanted something.

“Let them in,” he sighed, moving back to his chair. 

The secretary nodded, opening the door wider to allow a toon man to enter. His gaint was off, his upper body slightly more noodly than most toons. He had a white lab coat on, his candy red hair poking up in wild spikes and glasses had spirals on them. 

Plotz sighed internally. It was a mad scientist toon.

“Hello, Mr. Chairman-of-the-Board!” the toon said, his voice cracky, as if from a 1920s radio show. “How are you doing this fine day?”

“I’m not looking to take any more toons under my wing,” Plotz said, cutting to the chase. “We have enough cartoons as it is, and we don’t need any more shows.”

The toon shook his head. “No no no, I don’t want a job! I want to gift you one of my creations!” The man reached into his bag, pulling out a pair of glasses. 

Plotz rolled his eyes. “And  _ why _ would I want your glasses? I have perfect eyesight.”

“Oh, they’re not for vision, they’re for sight!” the toon said. He moved towards the desk, handing them to Plotz. 

“These little babies are one of my crowning achievements!” he said. “They allow you to see who a person truly is!”

Plotz cocked an eyebrow. “Come again?”

“How about a demonstration?” the toon who still hadn’t introduced himself said. He placed an arm around Plotz’s shoulder and moved them both towards the window. Outside, Plotz could see some people milling about. Many of them were people he barely remembered, but he spotted Slappy and Skippy Squirrel, as well as the Mime, sitting on a few benches, presumably on a break.

“Now, you see those people down there?” the toon said. “You can only see things they can’t necessarily control. Slappy couldn’t decide she was a squirrel. That sound engineer couldn’t decide he was black. That intern couldn’t decide to be short. And yet, all of these things influence what we think about a person.”

The toon stepped away, a wide smile on his face. “With these glasses, you see more than just someone’s body. You see who they truly are. You see who they are inside. Not race. Not body type. Not height. Not age.”

“And?” Plotz said, intrigued. If this was a sales pitch he was certainly at least interested. 

“And, this is a wonderful way to make sure you have the best people for the job!” the toon cheered. “You can see if that supermodel is going to get along well with her costars. You can see if that sound tech is actually good at their job, or if they’re buffing their resume or simply lacking in opportunities.”

“I see,” Plotz said. 

“Now, put them on!” the toon said.

Plotz did. 

At first, Plotz looked at the buildings. Nothing was warped. The colors didn’t even change. They weren’t prescription, and the only thing he could really see was that they lenses were a bit dirty. 

Looking down, however, he saw a surprising sight.

Where he knew the Squirrels were sitting, he saw two odd balls. One was smaller, a gleaming orb of light, with a small halo. The other was larger, a ball made of spikes and what looked like chewed gum. This ball was more defined, however, and was carrying a purse.

“What you’re looking at now is their undefined selves,” the toon said triumphantly. 

“This isn’t very helpful,” Plotz said, squinting. 

“Correct,” the toon replied. “So, what you’ve got to do, is zero in on something. Maybe their work ethic. How they’re feeling. Their general mood. Maybe you want to see their darkest side.”

“Huh,” Plotz said. 

“Now try it!”

Plots furrowed his brow. What did he want to see? Work ethic would be good, but that seemed unnecessary now. He wasn’t in charge of hiring. Maybe general mood? Their average state of being? Hm.

“So?” the toon asked, impatient.

“I’m thinking, hold on,” Plotz snapped. 

He thought for a moment longer, before a smile broke out on his face. 

He sent the thought, and the two balls before him changed. 

The white ball became a teenager, something he assumed was very attractive to squirrels. His tail was long and bushy, and his hair was long. He still had the halo, however.

The other ball turned into a younger Slappy, her body still in its prime. She was in shape, long and lean, in a way she hadn’t been in years. She looked powerful, in a way she never had before.

“So?” the toon asked again. “What’d you ask?”

“I wanted to see how they saw themselves,” he responded. He glanced around the lot.

Lots of the people he saw looked young and attractive. Some people he knew were fairly petit were larger, some people he would have seen as men looked like women and vice versa. One intern even turned into a robot.

He glanced over, and noted that the Mime hadn’t changed.

Figures. You have to be pretty confident to be a mime.

“Do you like them?” the toon asked, a smile on his face.

Plotz turned to the toon, noting through the glasses that the only difference was that his hair looked nicer. “I do,” he said slowly. “And the price?”

“Free!” the toon laughed. “I’ll let you have that pair for now, and if you need more just let me know! I already gave some to Disney, and they loved them!”

“So, no price?” Plotz frowned. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch!” the toon began walking away. “I just want people and toons to be seen for more than how they appear. I want equality!” The toon stood, back to the door. “Now, I’ll be off. If you need more, your secretary knows how to find me!” and then they were gone.

Plotz looked back out over the lot. He saw people in shapes and colors he’d never seen before. 

He smiled.

What an interesting twist.

* * *

After the meeting, Plotz decided to wander around. He figured if he had these new glasses, then he might as well use them. So far he’d looked around and checked on work ethic, mood, and tons of other things, but he found how others viewed themselves the most interesting. 

Eventually, he wound up outside of the psychiatry building, so he decided he might as well go in. 

Stepping inside, he found the main office empty, save for the nurse. She looked up from reading, her eyes widening.

To Plotz, she looked the same, except that her clothes were longer. She wore a white dress with a brown sweater, and some shiny medals glinted in the light on her chest. 

“Oh, Mr. Plotz,” the said kindly as she stood. “To what do we owe this visit?” She glanced at the calendar. “I didn’t see you on the schedule.”

“Oh, I’m not here on business,” Plotz said. As he moved closer, he realized that the medals were awards. The awards were for high grades and degrees that Plotz had never even realized she had. And there were way more than he would have expected. 

She stood silently, her posture questioning. 

“I simply wanted to check on something,” Plotz said, waving her off. He glanced up the stairs. “Is Schratansniff in an appointment?”

“No,” she said. “His patient called in sick. Do you want me to call him?”

“Just have him come down here,” he said, smiling. “It won’t take too long.”

The nurse nodded, picking up the phone. Before too long, Scratchansniff appeared at the top of the stairs.

Plotz was greeted with a man who was much older than Schratchansniff should be. His hunch was more exaggerated, and his white hair was longer. His glasses were thicker, and they were attached to him by a chain with two little mice charms. 

He had a few rainbow bandaids on him, and he walked with significantly more effort than Plotz would have expected, but the aging man came downstairs quickly.

“Oh, Mr. Plotz,” Schratchansniff said, wringing his hand. “Did you need me for something?”

“I was just checking something,” Plotz smiled. The job must have been making the old man age more than he felt. 

“Checking on what?” Scratchansniff glanced at the nurse, who slightly shrugged.

“Oh, it's no matter. All seems to be well,” Plotz said, turning. “Enjoy your break,” he said sweetly.

He knew that the two were confused, but it was no matter.

As soon as he stepped outside, he heard the yelling. 

Looking to his left, he spotted a commotion, and heard the telltale sound of Ralph trying to catch the Warners. 

Plotz hesitated. As much as he hated the Warners, this was an interesting opportunity. 

He began walking towards the noise, wary of any attacks from the loose Warners.

Sure, they didn’t cause nearly as much damage to the lot as they had in the 30s, he figured they could always snap if not kept in check. Those children were dangerous little monsters, and they needed to be controlled. 

Rounding the corner, Plotz spotted Ralph first. 

The man appeared skinnier, nothing but skin and bones. He looked like he was starving. His clothes were askew and dirty, and had tons of holes in them. 

More than before, he looked like someone who lived in a trailer. 

Plotz frowned. He didn’t realize that Ralph saw himself that way.

“Helloooooooooooo Plotzy!” came the cry in unison behind him. 

Plotz gave a shout, jumping and spotting the Warners had snuck behind him. Through the glasses, they looked the exact same. Maybe their clothes were a little more crumpled and dirty, but otherwise, not a single hair on their heads was different.

This angered Plotz more than he expected.

“Why you little--Don’t sneak up behind me!” he shouted.

“Don’t stand in front of us,” Yakko said, crossing his arms. The other two crossed their arms as well, mirroring their brother. 

“I wasn’t--” Plotz grit his teeth. “Get back into your water tower!” he shouted. “You don’t have filming for another three days.”

“But dadoo, we’re bored!” the three cried in unison again, moving forward to cling on Plotz’s coat.

“Get off of me you little--”

“Ooo!” Wakko said, pulling the glasses off of Plotz’s face. He started to examine them. 

Yakko leaned over, admiring them. “Nice glasses, Plotzy. Where’d you get them?”

“That’s none of your business!” Plotz yelled. He reached for them. “Give them back!”

Dot grabbed them from the other side of her brothers, keeping the glasses out of reach. She placed them on her nose, striking a pose. “What do you think?” she asked. “Do I look good in glasses?”

“You look good in anything, Dot,” Wakko said. 

“You just look a little too nerdy,” Yakko commented. 

“You’re right.” Dot smiled, taking off the glasses and handing them to Yakko. “These are more your style anyways.”

Yakko put them on his nose, bringing his hands up to make himself look endearing. “Do I look cute now?”

Dot and Wakko snorted. “As if,” Dot said.

They all laughed, and Plotz was about to shout at them, when a net fell on top of them. They screeched, and the glasses were knocked off the Yakko as the net lifted off the ground. Plotz grabbed them off the floor, clenching them in his hands. 

Ralph appeared behind them. Holding the rope at the end of a pulley, giving Plotz a nervous smile. 

“Duh, hiya Mr. Plotz,” he said, glancing at the Warners. “I caught thems!”

“I can see that, Ralph,” Plotz said, gritting his teeth. “Now get them back into the tower!”

“Aw,” all three of the toons said, their ears dropping.

“But we only wanted to have fun,” Yakko said.

“Yeah,” Dot said, leaning over Yakko’s lap and making her cutest face. “We were so bored up in that tower. We just wanted to explore!”

“Oh, please, Dadoo, let us play some more,” Wakko said, twisting to see Plotz over his shoulder. 

“No!” Plotz shouted. 

Their faces fell even more, as Ralph lifted the net off off the pulleys and began to make his way towards the tower.

Plotz followed, his rage egging him on to see everything he could about the Warners.

He looked for their mood, but they looked the same. He looked for their inner selves, and they looked the same. He looked for their work ethic and they looked the same. 

No matter what he asked, they didn’t change. Glancing at Ralph, Plotz knew that the glasses weren’t broken, and the toons hadn’t seemed to figure out what the glasses did while Dot and Yakko wore them, but he was getting frustrated.

Yakko eyed him, concerned. Plotz was sure he could tell Plotz was getting madder and madder at them, even though they were, at the moment, not doing anything. 

As they neared the tower, an idea suddenly dawned on Plotz.

_ Show me the darkest part of themselves, something they don’t want anyone to see _ . 

He smiled, sure that he would finally get the proof that they were exactly the monsters he thought they were.

Finally, they shifted, and Plotz froze as the wind was knocked out of him.

They weren’t monsters. 

Laying in the net as they were dragged across the ground, were three small children. They looked incredibly young, not even Yakko appearing to be over the age of ten, the age Plotz knew Dot was designed to be. 

Their fur was pale and patchy. Their clothes were scratched and torn. They didn’t wear gloves.

And they were covered in scars. 

Across their faces, their chests, their legs, and their arms. Part of Wakko’s ear was missing, clearly cut off. Dot had a large cut across her eye, marring her cute cheeks. Yakko’s throat appeared to have been previously slit, and the scar that had formed was still ugly and swollen. Dot and Wakko even had a few bandages. Yakko had a cut on his cheek that was untreated, the blood slowly oozing onto his siblings' heads.

All of them had the fur rubbed off their wrists, where deep wounds had previously cut them. Manacles still hung loosely from their wrists and ankles, their chains fading away as if Plotz was unable to see what they were attached to. 

Their hands were torn up, their claws exposed and bloodied, their fingers still bleeding. Plotz swallowed, as he realized that their fingers looked as if they had been digging against a wall. 

He saw panic in their eyes, a fear that Plotz didn’t know they were capable of.

“Mr. Plotz?” 

Plotz jumped as he heard Ralph call his name. He looked up, noticing that they had reached the bottom of the water tower. 

“Huh?” Plotz said, elegantly. 

“Are yous okay?” Ralph asked.

“Yeah, and why are you staring at us?” Yakko’s indignant voice came from the net. 

Plotz swallowed, trying to prepare to look at them, but their sad state still hurt to look at.

“Do I have something on my face?” Dot asked, stretching and turning her face for Yakko and Wakko to check.

“It’s nothing,” Plotz said, his voice softer than he meant. Both the Warners and Ralph looked concerned.

“Okay,” Ralph said. He pulled on the rope, hoisting the Warners into the air.

Plotz watched as they went.

As they lifted into the air, their chains got heavier. The water tower seemed to reach out, grabbing onto them by their tails and dragging them down. The Warners seemed afraid, but tired. 

Plotz couldn’t watch anymore, so he walked away without saying another word to Ralph. He ignored everyone, returning to his office. It was the end of the day, so he gathered his things and bid hhid secretary goodbye. 

On the drive home, he couldn’t get the scarred bodies of the Warners out of his mind. He had seen people on the lot with scars, sure, some of them with just as many as the Warners, but they had appeared older. They looked like they had worked to get there. Some of the toon had smaller chains on them, but they were more similar to leashes, and they were children as well. The toons didn’t seem as  _ trapped _ as the Warners were. 

He ate dinner in his silent apartment, the glasses removed at the door. He watched some game shows, but he couldn’t focus. 

As he was in the bathroom, he couldn’t stop staring at his reflection. He brushed his teeth, making eye contact with himself. 

After he spit, he kept staring.

Finally, after what felt like hours, he walked back to the door. With shaky hands he picked up the glasses, moving back towards the bathroom. 

He stood there, focusing on his image. He memorized every line of his face, his body, preparing to see small changes.

They had to be small changes, right? He wasn’t a bad person. He had worked to get where he was. 

He put the glasses on, staring at himself again. 

He screwed up his eyes, and sent the command.

_ Show me his darkest side, the thing he never wants anyone else to see. _

He took a deep breath, then opened his eyes.

* * *

The next morning, Jill arrived to work to find a large stack of papers already on her desk. She glanced at Plotz’s office, and could hear that he was already there. As his secretary, she was expected to always arrive before him, but it seemed that today he was running ahead. 

She was surprised he hadn’t called.

She took her seat, placing her purse into its normal drawer, and pulling the stack towards her.

Reading over it, she realized it was a contract.

It stipulated that Warner Bros. would pay for an apartment or home that the signee found with the help of Plotz, as well as for a home tutor or even to send them to regular school. The company would cover all living expenses, and the signees would have total autonomy over what scripts they participate in. The signees would also be able to renegotiate their contract at any time.

Jill’s eyebrows raised higher and higher as she read. This was a contract Plotz would never approve of. 

At the last page, she froze.

Why on earth was this contract for Yakko, Wakko, and Dot?

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! 
> 
> Currently I'm working on a longer Animaniacs fic. I've gotten a lot written, but I'm gonna write the whole thing before I post it bc otherwise I'll lose motivation, so be on the lookout for that!
> 
> See you next time!


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